Chapter Five.Charley White.One thought the stranger was a cabin passenger—another, an officer of the ship—another, a seaman; and Mary observed, that supposing he was a steerage passenger without a farthing in the world, it was equally our duty to take the best care we could of him.“I hope that he isn’t quite a gentleman,” said Susan, “because, if he is, he’ll be thinking himself above us.”“Not if he has right feeling,” remarked Mary. “I cannot see why we should fancy that people are always considering whether they are above or below each other, or better or worse than one another. I know that the Bible tells us to consider each person better than ourselves, and, in another place, not to mind high things, but to condescend to men of low estate. If people obeyed that rule, there wouldn’t be the disputes and quarrels there are between neighbours. I wonder if we shall find that sort of thing out in Australia.”“I am afraid that a voyage half round the world won’t change people’s hearts,” said I; “the only difference is, that people have so much to do and think of, they have no time to attend to the private concerns of others; and so I hope that they keep on good terms at all events with their neighbours.”“Do you think, father, that a voyage quite round the world, or twice round, would change a man’s heart?” asked John; “I should think it ought.”“No, John, I am very certain that it would not,” remarked his mother, now first joining in the conversation; “there is but one way by which a man’s heart can change, and that is through God’s Holy Spirit, to be obtained through His grace by earnest prayer.”My wife knew the truth, and showed that she did, not only by her words but by her life.“Well, sisters, to relieve your minds about the young stranger whom I hauled out of the water,” said Peter; “I’m pretty certain that he is a gentleman, judging by a few words he uttered as I caught hold of him. His first object seemed to be to thank me for the risk I was running to save him. However, we shall see.”The young stranger recovered sufficiently to talk without risk before the gale was over, and he then told us that his name was Charles White, that he was fourth officer of the ship we had seen go down—a homeward bound Indiaman—that he was an orphan, with very few friends in England or anywhere else; “Indeed,” he added, “had I shared the fate of my shipmates, there would have been but a small quantity of salt tears shed or crape worn for me; but I am wrong,—there is one who would have mourned for me; oh, if you knew her, such a good creature—Aunt Priscilla; she was my mother’s aunt; she has never married; Miss Beamish she is called. I believe that I am the only human male-being she cares for, except two tom cats and a dog, and one of them isn’t a tom; at least, it had kittens, and they are not human either. Whenever I go home, I always go and see Aunt Priscilla, and carry her all sorts of things, and feed the cats, and take the little dog out to walk; but when I went, I never intended to stay there long, because, you see, she and I are not much of companions to each other, and yet, somehow or other, what with telling her my adventures, and reading to her, and playing backgammon and such like things, we used to get on wonderfully well together. Then my coming was always a signal for her to give a series of tea-parties; they were not very large ones, because her room wouldn’t hold many people at a time, and then I used to have to tell my stories to each set of guests. Aunt Priscilla was never tired of listening to them, and I found out by the way she corrected me if I made the slightest variation. I had, therefore, to be very particular the first time I told a story, so that I might not afterwards be caught tripping. Yes; dear, good Aunt Priscilla, I am sure that she will be anxious when she finds that the old tea-chest hasn’t arrived at the time expected. There’s one comfort, I shall be able to give her notice of my safety before she hears positively of the fate of the ship.”Though Charley White did not talk of himself, I was able to form a very fair judgment of his character from the way he spoke of the old lady, and I found afterwards that I was correct. We found him a very pleasant addition to our family party on board, and I soon got to look on him like one of my own sons; he was, besides, of great assistance to us in navigating the little schooner. The gale at length ceased, and we stood for Table Bay. I was afraid of venturing the run across the Indian Ocean without landing at Cape Town, lest we might get short of water; a want, which besides exposing us to suffering, would have caused the destruction of all our sheep. We remained but a few days at Cape Town. Charley White wrote home an account of the loss of the ship, and sent a letter to his Aunt Priscilla assuring her of his safety. I expected, and thought of it with much regret, that he would here leave us. I invited him, however, to cast in his fortunes with ours, and without hesitation, much to the satisfaction of all our party, he accepted my offer. “You know,” he said, “when we get settled, I can send home for Aunt Priscilla, or go and fetch her, and I think that she would like the life. It would be much more satisfactory than her round of tea-parties, and give her something to think of besides her cats and dog, and I am sure that you would all like her.”We of course said that we had no doubt we should, though Susan remarked afterwards, that a real lady, as she supposed she was, from her giving tea-parties and having two cats and a poodle, would scarcely like to come out and live in the bush with such homely people as we were. I will tell you by and by what came of it.The people at the Cape, when they saw the size of theMay Flowerand the way she was laden, were surprised at our having come so far in safety, and some chose to declare that we should never reach the end of our voyage. I replied that they did not know the qualities of the little craft; that many a big ship had gone down when small ones had floated; that it was not so much the size of a vessel as the way she was put together, and the quality of her gear, which made her safe or unsafe, and moreover, that the same Providence which had protected us hitherto was not sleeping. That was the feeling which kept me up from first to last throughout our undertaking.We heard at the Cape some news which gave me more concern than anything else. It was, that war was again about to break out between England and France, and that as many other nations were likely to be leagued with France in arms against our country, we should have no small number of enemies among whom to run the gauntlet. My chief hope was that we should arrive at our destination before the news of the actual commencement of hostilities could reach the enemy’s cruisers in the Eastern seas. One thing, however, I remembered; it was, that bad news travels fast, and I have come to the conclusion that no news is worse than that which tells of two civilised nations going to war.Earthquakes, fires, floods, disasters at sea, are very bad; but war means that thousands of the flowers of manhood are to be cut down in their prime, or maimed, or wounded; that numbers of children are to be made orphans; wives are to become widows; and fruitful lands laid desolate. Such is war; ah! such is war.I had made up my mind to go on to Australia, though I had many tempting offers to remain at the Cape. I daresay that we should have found a happy home there, and it is a fine colony; but I have reason to be thankful that we persevered. My children enjoyed their visit to the shore, and the fresh bread and butter, and the fruit and vegetables; but after all, they said that there was nothing like home (meaning the little schooner), and they were glad to get back to her, thus showing that they were not tired of the voyage. Our old dog, Steadfast, made himself particularly happy, frisking and scampering about in every conceivable manner, till he looked, the children said, as if he would tumble to pieces in the exuberance of his spirits. They tried to induce our cat, the Duchess, to accompany them, but she had learned to look on the schooner as her home and wouldn’t go. Whenever they tried to catch her, she ran up the rigging, though on other occasions she allowed them to handle her as much as they liked. Curious as it may seem, the circumstance had a great effect on Bob Hunt and Dick Nailor, who were, like many seamen, very superstitious.“She knows it’s all right aboard here, and that we shan’t come to no harm,” observed Bob to his mate.“Oh, course,” answered Dick; “I never knowed a cat stick to a ship, if she could get away, which was to go down. They are wonderful wise creatures, and knows all sorts of things as is going to happen. To be sure they can scratch a bit when they fancies.”Cats will certainly stick to vessels whether they are to be wrecked or not. I remember falling in with an abandoned ship, the only living thing on board being a cat; we took her off, and the vessel soon afterwards went to pieces.Once more we were at sea. A westerly wind, which I was afraid we might lose if we stood to the southward, induced me to run along the coast closer in than I might otherwise have ventured. The weather had hitherto been very fine, and I persuaded myself that there was no risk. I was wrong. Suddenly, the wind shifted to the southwest of west, and blowing strong, and though we hauled up immediately, before we got a good offing it blew a strong gale from the southward directly on shore, and a heavy rolling sea came tumbling in. We could not venture to heave to, and yet there was more sea and wind than the little craft could well bear. All we could do was to keep sail on her, and to steer as close to the wind as she would lie. I watched the coast with deep anxiety, and couldn’t help feeling that the foaming, raging waters, which now dashed impetuously against it, might prove my grave and that of all dear to me.Of course my son and Charley White and the two seamen saw our danger as clearly as I did, but we did not communicate our ideas to each other, and I was anxious not to alarm my dear wife and daughters. The little craft looked up bravely however, and my hopes revived; again they sank, for the gale came down stronger than ever on us, and I saw that we were driving closer and closer towards the shore. A large ship might possibly, by cutting away her masts have ridden out the gale at her anchors; we, had we made the attempt, should have foundered. My wife and Mary and Susan had one after the other appeared at the companion hatch, and with pale faces, as they saw the state of things, had gone below again. I hadn’t the heart even to tell them my fears. Bob Hunt and Dick Nailor took matters very coolly.“The Duchess don’t think anything will come of it,” observed Bob to Dick, pointing to the cat who was sitting on a coil of rope on the head of a water cask lashed to the weather bulwarks.“May be not, but she may be mistaken once in a way, Bob,” answered Dick, who, seeing the imminent danger in which we were placed, lost his confidence in the fore-knowledge of the cat.From what may sound ridiculous, but was not really so, I must turn to a more serious matter. I suspected that my wife and daughters knew our danger, though I had not told them of it.We had driven still nearer to the land, and wishing to ascertain exactly on what part of the coast we were, that I might, if possible, run the vessel on shore on some spot where we might have a chance of saving our lives I went below to examine the chart.
One thought the stranger was a cabin passenger—another, an officer of the ship—another, a seaman; and Mary observed, that supposing he was a steerage passenger without a farthing in the world, it was equally our duty to take the best care we could of him.
“I hope that he isn’t quite a gentleman,” said Susan, “because, if he is, he’ll be thinking himself above us.”
“Not if he has right feeling,” remarked Mary. “I cannot see why we should fancy that people are always considering whether they are above or below each other, or better or worse than one another. I know that the Bible tells us to consider each person better than ourselves, and, in another place, not to mind high things, but to condescend to men of low estate. If people obeyed that rule, there wouldn’t be the disputes and quarrels there are between neighbours. I wonder if we shall find that sort of thing out in Australia.”
“I am afraid that a voyage half round the world won’t change people’s hearts,” said I; “the only difference is, that people have so much to do and think of, they have no time to attend to the private concerns of others; and so I hope that they keep on good terms at all events with their neighbours.”
“Do you think, father, that a voyage quite round the world, or twice round, would change a man’s heart?” asked John; “I should think it ought.”
“No, John, I am very certain that it would not,” remarked his mother, now first joining in the conversation; “there is but one way by which a man’s heart can change, and that is through God’s Holy Spirit, to be obtained through His grace by earnest prayer.”
My wife knew the truth, and showed that she did, not only by her words but by her life.
“Well, sisters, to relieve your minds about the young stranger whom I hauled out of the water,” said Peter; “I’m pretty certain that he is a gentleman, judging by a few words he uttered as I caught hold of him. His first object seemed to be to thank me for the risk I was running to save him. However, we shall see.”
The young stranger recovered sufficiently to talk without risk before the gale was over, and he then told us that his name was Charles White, that he was fourth officer of the ship we had seen go down—a homeward bound Indiaman—that he was an orphan, with very few friends in England or anywhere else; “Indeed,” he added, “had I shared the fate of my shipmates, there would have been but a small quantity of salt tears shed or crape worn for me; but I am wrong,—there is one who would have mourned for me; oh, if you knew her, such a good creature—Aunt Priscilla; she was my mother’s aunt; she has never married; Miss Beamish she is called. I believe that I am the only human male-being she cares for, except two tom cats and a dog, and one of them isn’t a tom; at least, it had kittens, and they are not human either. Whenever I go home, I always go and see Aunt Priscilla, and carry her all sorts of things, and feed the cats, and take the little dog out to walk; but when I went, I never intended to stay there long, because, you see, she and I are not much of companions to each other, and yet, somehow or other, what with telling her my adventures, and reading to her, and playing backgammon and such like things, we used to get on wonderfully well together. Then my coming was always a signal for her to give a series of tea-parties; they were not very large ones, because her room wouldn’t hold many people at a time, and then I used to have to tell my stories to each set of guests. Aunt Priscilla was never tired of listening to them, and I found out by the way she corrected me if I made the slightest variation. I had, therefore, to be very particular the first time I told a story, so that I might not afterwards be caught tripping. Yes; dear, good Aunt Priscilla, I am sure that she will be anxious when she finds that the old tea-chest hasn’t arrived at the time expected. There’s one comfort, I shall be able to give her notice of my safety before she hears positively of the fate of the ship.”
Though Charley White did not talk of himself, I was able to form a very fair judgment of his character from the way he spoke of the old lady, and I found afterwards that I was correct. We found him a very pleasant addition to our family party on board, and I soon got to look on him like one of my own sons; he was, besides, of great assistance to us in navigating the little schooner. The gale at length ceased, and we stood for Table Bay. I was afraid of venturing the run across the Indian Ocean without landing at Cape Town, lest we might get short of water; a want, which besides exposing us to suffering, would have caused the destruction of all our sheep. We remained but a few days at Cape Town. Charley White wrote home an account of the loss of the ship, and sent a letter to his Aunt Priscilla assuring her of his safety. I expected, and thought of it with much regret, that he would here leave us. I invited him, however, to cast in his fortunes with ours, and without hesitation, much to the satisfaction of all our party, he accepted my offer. “You know,” he said, “when we get settled, I can send home for Aunt Priscilla, or go and fetch her, and I think that she would like the life. It would be much more satisfactory than her round of tea-parties, and give her something to think of besides her cats and dog, and I am sure that you would all like her.”
We of course said that we had no doubt we should, though Susan remarked afterwards, that a real lady, as she supposed she was, from her giving tea-parties and having two cats and a poodle, would scarcely like to come out and live in the bush with such homely people as we were. I will tell you by and by what came of it.
The people at the Cape, when they saw the size of theMay Flowerand the way she was laden, were surprised at our having come so far in safety, and some chose to declare that we should never reach the end of our voyage. I replied that they did not know the qualities of the little craft; that many a big ship had gone down when small ones had floated; that it was not so much the size of a vessel as the way she was put together, and the quality of her gear, which made her safe or unsafe, and moreover, that the same Providence which had protected us hitherto was not sleeping. That was the feeling which kept me up from first to last throughout our undertaking.
We heard at the Cape some news which gave me more concern than anything else. It was, that war was again about to break out between England and France, and that as many other nations were likely to be leagued with France in arms against our country, we should have no small number of enemies among whom to run the gauntlet. My chief hope was that we should arrive at our destination before the news of the actual commencement of hostilities could reach the enemy’s cruisers in the Eastern seas. One thing, however, I remembered; it was, that bad news travels fast, and I have come to the conclusion that no news is worse than that which tells of two civilised nations going to war.
Earthquakes, fires, floods, disasters at sea, are very bad; but war means that thousands of the flowers of manhood are to be cut down in their prime, or maimed, or wounded; that numbers of children are to be made orphans; wives are to become widows; and fruitful lands laid desolate. Such is war; ah! such is war.
I had made up my mind to go on to Australia, though I had many tempting offers to remain at the Cape. I daresay that we should have found a happy home there, and it is a fine colony; but I have reason to be thankful that we persevered. My children enjoyed their visit to the shore, and the fresh bread and butter, and the fruit and vegetables; but after all, they said that there was nothing like home (meaning the little schooner), and they were glad to get back to her, thus showing that they were not tired of the voyage. Our old dog, Steadfast, made himself particularly happy, frisking and scampering about in every conceivable manner, till he looked, the children said, as if he would tumble to pieces in the exuberance of his spirits. They tried to induce our cat, the Duchess, to accompany them, but she had learned to look on the schooner as her home and wouldn’t go. Whenever they tried to catch her, she ran up the rigging, though on other occasions she allowed them to handle her as much as they liked. Curious as it may seem, the circumstance had a great effect on Bob Hunt and Dick Nailor, who were, like many seamen, very superstitious.
“She knows it’s all right aboard here, and that we shan’t come to no harm,” observed Bob to his mate.
“Oh, course,” answered Dick; “I never knowed a cat stick to a ship, if she could get away, which was to go down. They are wonderful wise creatures, and knows all sorts of things as is going to happen. To be sure they can scratch a bit when they fancies.”
Cats will certainly stick to vessels whether they are to be wrecked or not. I remember falling in with an abandoned ship, the only living thing on board being a cat; we took her off, and the vessel soon afterwards went to pieces.
Once more we were at sea. A westerly wind, which I was afraid we might lose if we stood to the southward, induced me to run along the coast closer in than I might otherwise have ventured. The weather had hitherto been very fine, and I persuaded myself that there was no risk. I was wrong. Suddenly, the wind shifted to the southwest of west, and blowing strong, and though we hauled up immediately, before we got a good offing it blew a strong gale from the southward directly on shore, and a heavy rolling sea came tumbling in. We could not venture to heave to, and yet there was more sea and wind than the little craft could well bear. All we could do was to keep sail on her, and to steer as close to the wind as she would lie. I watched the coast with deep anxiety, and couldn’t help feeling that the foaming, raging waters, which now dashed impetuously against it, might prove my grave and that of all dear to me.
Of course my son and Charley White and the two seamen saw our danger as clearly as I did, but we did not communicate our ideas to each other, and I was anxious not to alarm my dear wife and daughters. The little craft looked up bravely however, and my hopes revived; again they sank, for the gale came down stronger than ever on us, and I saw that we were driving closer and closer towards the shore. A large ship might possibly, by cutting away her masts have ridden out the gale at her anchors; we, had we made the attempt, should have foundered. My wife and Mary and Susan had one after the other appeared at the companion hatch, and with pale faces, as they saw the state of things, had gone below again. I hadn’t the heart even to tell them my fears. Bob Hunt and Dick Nailor took matters very coolly.
“The Duchess don’t think anything will come of it,” observed Bob to Dick, pointing to the cat who was sitting on a coil of rope on the head of a water cask lashed to the weather bulwarks.
“May be not, but she may be mistaken once in a way, Bob,” answered Dick, who, seeing the imminent danger in which we were placed, lost his confidence in the fore-knowledge of the cat.
From what may sound ridiculous, but was not really so, I must turn to a more serious matter. I suspected that my wife and daughters knew our danger, though I had not told them of it.
We had driven still nearer to the land, and wishing to ascertain exactly on what part of the coast we were, that I might, if possible, run the vessel on shore on some spot where we might have a chance of saving our lives I went below to examine the chart.
Chapter Six.In Smooth Water.The cabin was very dark, from the skylight being covered over and battened down. The schooner was however so tight and strong, that provided the hatches were on, I knew that she might almost roll over and over, and yet not fill. This gave me great confidence as long as we kept to the open sea; but driven on rocks or quicksands, with such a gale as was then blowing, there could have been no hope for the stoutest ship that ever floated on the salt ocean. As I was saying, I went into the cabin; although gloomy enough on deck, it was still darker below; for the gleam of light which came down the companion-hatch scarcely found its way beyond the foot of the ladder. I looked about me, and at first thought that my wife and daughters had, in their terror, turned into their berths; but soon, amid the creaking of the bulkheads, and the rattling of the rigging, and the roaring of the storm, a gentle, sweet voice reached my ears. It was that of my daughter Susan. She had not heard me enter. She was on her knees praying, so were her mother and sisters, all round the table in the cabin. She was lifting up her voice to our loving, merciful Father in Heaven;—to the same God who stilled the raging of the storm on Gennesaret, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still.” She was praying, dear girl, for me especially, that I might be preserved, even though the vessel were dashed to pieces; but, that if it was His will, that the schooner and all on board might be saved.I cannot tell you how much confidence the prayer of that dear child gave me; I am sure—I was then sure—that God hears such prayers. The rest of the family too had been praying; they were not prayers forced out by fear, but just such trusting, hopeful prayers as God loves to honour. I stood for a few moments till Susan ceased, and when she did, I uttered a low “Amen.” The dear ones heard me, and looked up, but did not rise from their knees; indeed, the vessel was tumbling about so much, that it was with difficulty they could hold on. I told them what I was come down for, and striking a light, I took down my chart from the beckets in which it hung, and spread it out on the table. I anxiously marked down the position in which, by my calculations, I believed the schooner then was. A league or more to the eastward there was, I found, an island with a bay inside it, affording anchorage for small vessels. For a large ship it would have been utterly useless. Here, again, was an advantage which my humble little schooner possessed over a bigger craft. Giving a parting kiss to my wife and daughters, I leaped again on deck.It was a question whether we should be able to keep off the shore till we could reach the island. I could see the surf breaking furiously on the rocks to leeward, and the gale blew as heavily as ever. A slight shift of wind might save us. If the wind held as it then did, I had no hopes for the littleMay Flower.The day was drawing to a close. Every instant the danger increased. The gale, instead of breaking, raged more furiously than ever. Closer and closer the schooner drifted towards the shore. It would have been madness to carry more sail; for already her lee bulwarks were under water, and yet I dared not take any off her with the slightest hopes of being able to claw off shore. The seas came breaking on board, deluging our decks, and, had not the hatches been firmly secured, would quickly have swamped us. I was at the helm, with Charley White by my side, my boys and the two men having lashed themselves to the weather rigging. No one appeared to be terror-stricken, and yet the youngest, as well as old Bob Hunt, knew perfectly well that there was every probability of our being in a few short minutes overwhelmed among the foaming breakers under our lee. Anxiously I looked out for the island; and the wind blew fiercer and fiercer.Suddenly there was a lull; but it was of no advantage to us, as the huge rollers were literally throwing us rapidly towards the rocks. Again the gale came down on us, but its direction was altered. It blew nearer from the westward, by several points, than it had before done. Already the schooner was heading off from the shore, but very slowly; and I was doubtful how far she would make way against the rollers, which sent her bodily back towards it. Still there was hope, and I could venture to slide back the hatch and to sing out to the dear ones below that the wind had changed. “Thank God for His mercy,” was the reply from below, for I had speedily to shut the hatch again. Just afterwards I saw an opening in the land to the westward, and I knew that it must be the passage between the island and the main. There was a hillock and a peculiar rock, which prevented me from having any doubt about the matter. What a comfort to feel sure that we were steering a right course for a safe harbour! I could now venture to keep away again a little.The entrance to the sound became more and more distinct as we advanced. The various landmarks noted in the chart, appeared one after the other, and in half an hour we ran into a beautiful little harbour, with the water as smooth as a mill-pond. Our first care, directly the anchor was dropped, was to take off the hatches and give air to our poor sheep. The boys jumped below to ascertain if they had suffered.“All the animals are alive,” they cried out; “but send us down a bucket of water.” The creatures sucked it up quickly. They probably would not have held out many hours longer; but we lifted them up, two at a time, on deck, and the fresh air soon revived them. We had only just light enough to see our way into the harbour, but we hoped in the morning to get on shore and to cut some grass, which would do them more good than the fresh air.I should have said that directly we were in smooth water my wife and daughters came on deck, and, as they gazed on the sheltering shore under which we were running, they lifted up their hands in earnest thankfulness to that merciful God who had brought us into a haven of rest.On sounding the well, we found that, notwithstanding all the tossing we had gone through, the stout little craft had not made a drop of water. We spent two very busy days in Refuge harbour, cutting grass and wood, and filling up our water casks. All this time no natives were seen. There are indeed but few on that part of the coast. Short-sighted mortals that we are—we had been inclined to complain of our detention, but we had reason to be thankful that we had gone into Refuge harbour.As soon as we had filled up with wood and water, we got under weigh, and stood out through the eastern end of the sound. Before, however, we had got from under the shelter of the island—a long, low sandy point intervening between us and the ocean—we saw to the southward a dark bank of clouds coming, like an army in close rank, rapidly up towards us.The breeze was light, and the sea comparatively calm, but underneath the cloud there came a line of white foam, beyond which the whole ocean seemed a mass of tossing seas. I knew what to expect, and, going about, stood back to our snug little bay. Scarcely had we dropped our anchor and furled sails than the hurricane burst above the island, and we could see the breakers dashing furiously on the opposite shore. For nearly three days the tempest—one of the most violent ever known on that coast—continued raging. Many a big ship went down, and many a stout one was cast upon the rooks and dashed to pieces.We waited—grateful for our escape—till the wind moderated and the sea went down, and then once again sailed for our final destination. In our small vessel we had to economise fresh water, fodder for the animals, and fuel; and it was very important that we should have a quick passage. We had, therefore, again filled up with those necessary articles, and in every corner we had stowed away all the fresh grass we could cut. This, mixed with the hay, kept the sheep in excellent condition. We had ere long to be thankful that we had not neglected to prepare for all contingencies.
The cabin was very dark, from the skylight being covered over and battened down. The schooner was however so tight and strong, that provided the hatches were on, I knew that she might almost roll over and over, and yet not fill. This gave me great confidence as long as we kept to the open sea; but driven on rocks or quicksands, with such a gale as was then blowing, there could have been no hope for the stoutest ship that ever floated on the salt ocean. As I was saying, I went into the cabin; although gloomy enough on deck, it was still darker below; for the gleam of light which came down the companion-hatch scarcely found its way beyond the foot of the ladder. I looked about me, and at first thought that my wife and daughters had, in their terror, turned into their berths; but soon, amid the creaking of the bulkheads, and the rattling of the rigging, and the roaring of the storm, a gentle, sweet voice reached my ears. It was that of my daughter Susan. She had not heard me enter. She was on her knees praying, so were her mother and sisters, all round the table in the cabin. She was lifting up her voice to our loving, merciful Father in Heaven;—to the same God who stilled the raging of the storm on Gennesaret, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still.” She was praying, dear girl, for me especially, that I might be preserved, even though the vessel were dashed to pieces; but, that if it was His will, that the schooner and all on board might be saved.
I cannot tell you how much confidence the prayer of that dear child gave me; I am sure—I was then sure—that God hears such prayers. The rest of the family too had been praying; they were not prayers forced out by fear, but just such trusting, hopeful prayers as God loves to honour. I stood for a few moments till Susan ceased, and when she did, I uttered a low “Amen.” The dear ones heard me, and looked up, but did not rise from their knees; indeed, the vessel was tumbling about so much, that it was with difficulty they could hold on. I told them what I was come down for, and striking a light, I took down my chart from the beckets in which it hung, and spread it out on the table. I anxiously marked down the position in which, by my calculations, I believed the schooner then was. A league or more to the eastward there was, I found, an island with a bay inside it, affording anchorage for small vessels. For a large ship it would have been utterly useless. Here, again, was an advantage which my humble little schooner possessed over a bigger craft. Giving a parting kiss to my wife and daughters, I leaped again on deck.
It was a question whether we should be able to keep off the shore till we could reach the island. I could see the surf breaking furiously on the rocks to leeward, and the gale blew as heavily as ever. A slight shift of wind might save us. If the wind held as it then did, I had no hopes for the littleMay Flower.
The day was drawing to a close. Every instant the danger increased. The gale, instead of breaking, raged more furiously than ever. Closer and closer the schooner drifted towards the shore. It would have been madness to carry more sail; for already her lee bulwarks were under water, and yet I dared not take any off her with the slightest hopes of being able to claw off shore. The seas came breaking on board, deluging our decks, and, had not the hatches been firmly secured, would quickly have swamped us. I was at the helm, with Charley White by my side, my boys and the two men having lashed themselves to the weather rigging. No one appeared to be terror-stricken, and yet the youngest, as well as old Bob Hunt, knew perfectly well that there was every probability of our being in a few short minutes overwhelmed among the foaming breakers under our lee. Anxiously I looked out for the island; and the wind blew fiercer and fiercer.
Suddenly there was a lull; but it was of no advantage to us, as the huge rollers were literally throwing us rapidly towards the rocks. Again the gale came down on us, but its direction was altered. It blew nearer from the westward, by several points, than it had before done. Already the schooner was heading off from the shore, but very slowly; and I was doubtful how far she would make way against the rollers, which sent her bodily back towards it. Still there was hope, and I could venture to slide back the hatch and to sing out to the dear ones below that the wind had changed. “Thank God for His mercy,” was the reply from below, for I had speedily to shut the hatch again. Just afterwards I saw an opening in the land to the westward, and I knew that it must be the passage between the island and the main. There was a hillock and a peculiar rock, which prevented me from having any doubt about the matter. What a comfort to feel sure that we were steering a right course for a safe harbour! I could now venture to keep away again a little.
The entrance to the sound became more and more distinct as we advanced. The various landmarks noted in the chart, appeared one after the other, and in half an hour we ran into a beautiful little harbour, with the water as smooth as a mill-pond. Our first care, directly the anchor was dropped, was to take off the hatches and give air to our poor sheep. The boys jumped below to ascertain if they had suffered.
“All the animals are alive,” they cried out; “but send us down a bucket of water.” The creatures sucked it up quickly. They probably would not have held out many hours longer; but we lifted them up, two at a time, on deck, and the fresh air soon revived them. We had only just light enough to see our way into the harbour, but we hoped in the morning to get on shore and to cut some grass, which would do them more good than the fresh air.
I should have said that directly we were in smooth water my wife and daughters came on deck, and, as they gazed on the sheltering shore under which we were running, they lifted up their hands in earnest thankfulness to that merciful God who had brought us into a haven of rest.
On sounding the well, we found that, notwithstanding all the tossing we had gone through, the stout little craft had not made a drop of water. We spent two very busy days in Refuge harbour, cutting grass and wood, and filling up our water casks. All this time no natives were seen. There are indeed but few on that part of the coast. Short-sighted mortals that we are—we had been inclined to complain of our detention, but we had reason to be thankful that we had gone into Refuge harbour.
As soon as we had filled up with wood and water, we got under weigh, and stood out through the eastern end of the sound. Before, however, we had got from under the shelter of the island—a long, low sandy point intervening between us and the ocean—we saw to the southward a dark bank of clouds coming, like an army in close rank, rapidly up towards us.
The breeze was light, and the sea comparatively calm, but underneath the cloud there came a line of white foam, beyond which the whole ocean seemed a mass of tossing seas. I knew what to expect, and, going about, stood back to our snug little bay. Scarcely had we dropped our anchor and furled sails than the hurricane burst above the island, and we could see the breakers dashing furiously on the opposite shore. For nearly three days the tempest—one of the most violent ever known on that coast—continued raging. Many a big ship went down, and many a stout one was cast upon the rooks and dashed to pieces.
We waited—grateful for our escape—till the wind moderated and the sea went down, and then once again sailed for our final destination. In our small vessel we had to economise fresh water, fodder for the animals, and fuel; and it was very important that we should have a quick passage. We had, therefore, again filled up with those necessary articles, and in every corner we had stowed away all the fresh grass we could cut. This, mixed with the hay, kept the sheep in excellent condition. We had ere long to be thankful that we had not neglected to prepare for all contingencies.
Chapter Seven.Fresh Water.We had for some time very fine weather, which confirmed Bob Hunt in his opinion that the cat, Duchess, was as wise as he had at first believed.“She knowed it,” he observed, looking sagaciously at Dick Nailor, who was sitting on the capstan with his arms folded across his broad chest, looking out ahead, “she knowed it, and she’ll stick by this craft till we get safe into Port Jackson, you’ll see that.”“As to that, I see that the cat is there, and that our little craft is afloat, and every prospect of remaining so!” answered Dick. It was seldom he uttered so long an expression. “You don’t even say that the cat has had any hand in keeping her afloat; and to my mind, it’s just this: she found the craft tight and wholesome, she was fond of us, and she saw that we didn’t leave her, and so she didn’t. No, no, Bob, the old Duchess had nothing to do with the matter. There’s one aloft who took care of us, and if the cat had fallen overboard, or gone ashore and been left behind, it would have made no manner of difference.”“Then, I suppose you mean to say that there is no such person as the Flying Dutchman?” observed Bob; “everybody who has rounded the Cape has heard of him.”“There might have been some villain of a Dutchman who swore that he’d beat about the seas till the Day of Judgment; but depend on it, if he ever did utter such an oath, he’s gone to answer for it long ago—far away from this world,” said Dick Nailor, solemnly. “I’ve heard many, many men talk of the Flying Dutchman, but I never yet met with one who had seen him.”Neither had Bob Hunt, and so he had nothing to answer to this—indeed, talkative as he was, he always had to knock under to Dick’s sturdy, matter-of-fact arguments, or to his pertinacious silence, if no argument was forthcoming.The quaint fellow would fold his arms, sit down, and look a picture of stolidity.I have not said much about how my children passed their time during the voyage. The boys were generally employed in sailing the vessel, or about the rigging; for my object was not only to keep the vessel in good order during the voyage, but to take her into Port Jackson looking as fresh as I could. However, the boys had time to practice writing and to study their books, and both Peter and Charles White were able to help them. The girls had plenty of work to do, as my wife had laid in a store of all sorts of things to make up. They also were not idle with regard to their books; and they had several pleasant ones to read. I found also that Charley White was very happy to help them forward in their studies, and Susan took it into her head that she should very much like to learn navigation. She, however, gave up that idea, and took to singing, as Charley, who knew something about music, thought he could help her, and it was likely to prove a more amusing study, and quite as useful to her. I may safely say that no one was idle on board; and what is more, that not a real quarrel, and scarcely a dispute of any sort occurred among the inhabitants of our little world. If one differed in opinion from another, it was always good naturedly, and all discussions were finished amicably. People in families on shore would always be able to do the same if they kept a watch over their tempers, and did not allow envy, jealousy, and pride to spring up and hold dominion in their hearts.Our tempers were occasionally tried. When within a week’s sail of the western shores of Australia the wind fell to a dead calm. The sea was smooth as glass, and the hot sun came down with fearful force on our heads, while the reflection of his rays from the glittering sea almost blinded our eyes. Long as I had ploughed the salt ocean, I had never felt the heat greater. For two or three days it was endurable, but after that every one began to complain; even Duchess looked out for a shady place, under the sail or bulwarks, to lie down in, and poor Steadfast went panting about the deck with his tongue out, the fowls hung down their heads, and the merry robins and sparrows ceased to chirp. If a chip or a feather was thrown overboard, it lay motionless alongside, though the schooner herself kept moving round, with her head towards all the points of the compass.The heat created a violent thirst: everybody was thirsty—the men, my children, my wife and I, and the poor animals; they required water more than we did, for they got no moisture out of the packed hay. We gave them as much as we dared, and, as soon as the sun was down, had them on deck to give them fresh air.We were not alone in our misfortunes, however, for when the sun rose, on the first morning of the calm, his rays fell on the white canvas of a ship, just rising out of the western horizon. After some time she disappeared, either because her sails had been clewed up, or that she was too far off to be seen unless the sun was shining directly on them. We had many discussions as to what she was. I need scarcely say that she caused us no little uneasiness.Still the calm continued. Day after day the sun went down in the calm ocean, and rose again to cast a ruddy glow over its mirror-like surface, and there in the distance lay the stranger, though only sharp eyes could have detected her.I began to be very anxious about the sheep. The success of the undertaking depended in a great measure on their being kept alive, still, we had to put them on an allowance, as we had ourselves. Little Margaret and Tommy couldn’t understand why they shouldn’t have as much water as they wanted, when there was plenty alongside. They could not understand that salt water was worse than no water at all; nor could the poor sheep, probably, when they were brought up on deck, and gazed out on the glittering ocean around them.When matters had come to this pass, I began for the first time to lose heart. I was sitting with my head bowed down, resting on my hand, when my boy Peter said to me— “Father I have an idea—I have heard that fresh water may be got out of salt, and I think I can manage it, if you do not mind expending our fuel.”These words restored my spirits. We had laid in a large supply of fuel at the Cape; water was of more consequence than anything else. It would be better to break up all the spare cases, and even the bulkheads and cabin furniture, than to go without it. Peter soon explained his plan; I agreed to try it. We, after a search among the cargo, found two large camp kettles. Soldering down their lids, we bored a hole in the top of one and in the side of the other, and joined the two with a piece of piping, three feet long. The one with a hole in the top we placed on the fire. We fitted a funnel to the spout, through which we poured in water; the other kettle was fixed on a stand, and we soldered a small pipe in at the bottom. Above the outside kettle we slung a bucket full of water also, with a small pipe in it, and the top of the kettle we covered over with cloths, which, by the means of the bucket, were kept constantly wet. The kettle on the fire was filled, the fire blazed up, and, as the water boiled, we watched with anxiety the result of the process. Some drops at length fell from the lower kettle, and a jug was ready to catch them. Peter eagerly poured the water into a mug, and, putting it to his lips, with a triumphant smile passed it round to us all. It was deliciously cool and perfectly sweet. It now came pouring out quickly, and we got up an empty cask to contain it. We all knelt down and thanked God that we had obtained the means for sustaining life, should our supply of water altogether fail. It took a long time, and used up a large quantity of fuel to produce even a gallon of fresh water, yet a gallon was sufficient liquid for everybody on board for a couple of days, and we might thus give a larger share to the sheep.You might not think so, but the gale off the Cape did not cause me as much anxiety as this long calm. I ought, I confess, to have remembered that in both instances God was watching over us. In the one, I trusted to my stout little craft and my seamanship; in the other, my seamanship was of no avail—the stoutest ship would not have prevented all on board dying a frightful death had the calm continued. Here was my human folly: on both occasions, had I thrown all my care on God, I should have saved myself from all the anxiety I had suffered. This was increased by the uncertainty I felt as to the character of the sail we saw in the distance. I was in my own mind persuaded that she was a French privateer, and if we were discovered, her boats would probably pay us a visit, even if she did not.We were all seated languidly about on the deck, under an awning rigged to give us some shade, when Peter started up, exclaiming, “There comes the breeze.” Some downy feathers, fastened by a silk thread to the after backstay, had, he thought, moved for a moment though the vane quickly dropped again. We were speedily on foot, but the first glance at the glowing, tranquil ocean, like some huge mirror on which we were resting, made me fear that my son had been mistaken. I shook my head, and a sigh escaped from several of our party, as they sank down again on their seats. Just then, however, I caught sight of a light cat’s-paw skimming over the water in the distance, and Peter, springing at the same moment into the rigging and pointing westward, exclaimed, “Here it comes, father, no mistake about it now.” I followed him up the rigging, and saw in the far west a wide-extending dark blue line moving quickly on towards us. Peter and I sprang back on deck, got the awning stowed, the head sails set, and the big square-sail ready for hoisting. The cat’s-paws came thicker and thicker, the dark blue line increasing in width, till in a short time we were staggering away before as brisk a breeze as the little craft could desire. All languor quickly vanished, and we served out an additional supply of water to our poor sheep. My anxiety, however, did not cease, for just afterwards, as I was sweeping the horizon with my telescope, I saw, rising above it, the royals of a square-rigged ship, the same, I concluded, which I had seen at the commencement of the calm. She might be a friend, or an English ship, and be ready to supply us with any necessaries we might require: but I had taken it into my head that she was an enemy, and I could not tell to what treatment we might be subjected. Sometimes French officers behaved very kindly to passengers captured by them, but during the republican period many of those in command were brutal men, who outraged all the laws of humanity when they got the crews and passengers of an English ship into their power. I, of course, said nothing of this to my wife or children. I, however consulted with Charley White and Peter, and we agreed that it would be more prudent to alter our course to the northward for a few hours, so as to allow the ship to pass us during the night. Though we were not now visible to her, when the sun came to set in the west she would have got so far nearer to us that his rays falling on our canvas, we should be probably seen from her tops.This plan we followed. Charley White had become even more anxious than I was, and he was constantly going aloft to watch the stranger. Half an hour before sunset, we could see half way down her topsails from the deck. Though they looked no bigger than a small pocket handkerchief, the sharp eyes of my girls caught sight of them, and seemed much surprised that we were not eager to speak with the stranger. I was very glad when darkness hid us, as I hoped, from her. We arranged, however, to keep a bright look out all night, and to furl everything, should she pass near us, so as to escape observation. Charley and Peter kept a watch together. They insisted on my turning in after my first watch was over, and in truth I could leave the vessel in their care with as much confidence as if I had her myself.
We had for some time very fine weather, which confirmed Bob Hunt in his opinion that the cat, Duchess, was as wise as he had at first believed.
“She knowed it,” he observed, looking sagaciously at Dick Nailor, who was sitting on the capstan with his arms folded across his broad chest, looking out ahead, “she knowed it, and she’ll stick by this craft till we get safe into Port Jackson, you’ll see that.”
“As to that, I see that the cat is there, and that our little craft is afloat, and every prospect of remaining so!” answered Dick. It was seldom he uttered so long an expression. “You don’t even say that the cat has had any hand in keeping her afloat; and to my mind, it’s just this: she found the craft tight and wholesome, she was fond of us, and she saw that we didn’t leave her, and so she didn’t. No, no, Bob, the old Duchess had nothing to do with the matter. There’s one aloft who took care of us, and if the cat had fallen overboard, or gone ashore and been left behind, it would have made no manner of difference.”
“Then, I suppose you mean to say that there is no such person as the Flying Dutchman?” observed Bob; “everybody who has rounded the Cape has heard of him.”
“There might have been some villain of a Dutchman who swore that he’d beat about the seas till the Day of Judgment; but depend on it, if he ever did utter such an oath, he’s gone to answer for it long ago—far away from this world,” said Dick Nailor, solemnly. “I’ve heard many, many men talk of the Flying Dutchman, but I never yet met with one who had seen him.”
Neither had Bob Hunt, and so he had nothing to answer to this—indeed, talkative as he was, he always had to knock under to Dick’s sturdy, matter-of-fact arguments, or to his pertinacious silence, if no argument was forthcoming.
The quaint fellow would fold his arms, sit down, and look a picture of stolidity.
I have not said much about how my children passed their time during the voyage. The boys were generally employed in sailing the vessel, or about the rigging; for my object was not only to keep the vessel in good order during the voyage, but to take her into Port Jackson looking as fresh as I could. However, the boys had time to practice writing and to study their books, and both Peter and Charles White were able to help them. The girls had plenty of work to do, as my wife had laid in a store of all sorts of things to make up. They also were not idle with regard to their books; and they had several pleasant ones to read. I found also that Charley White was very happy to help them forward in their studies, and Susan took it into her head that she should very much like to learn navigation. She, however, gave up that idea, and took to singing, as Charley, who knew something about music, thought he could help her, and it was likely to prove a more amusing study, and quite as useful to her. I may safely say that no one was idle on board; and what is more, that not a real quarrel, and scarcely a dispute of any sort occurred among the inhabitants of our little world. If one differed in opinion from another, it was always good naturedly, and all discussions were finished amicably. People in families on shore would always be able to do the same if they kept a watch over their tempers, and did not allow envy, jealousy, and pride to spring up and hold dominion in their hearts.
Our tempers were occasionally tried. When within a week’s sail of the western shores of Australia the wind fell to a dead calm. The sea was smooth as glass, and the hot sun came down with fearful force on our heads, while the reflection of his rays from the glittering sea almost blinded our eyes. Long as I had ploughed the salt ocean, I had never felt the heat greater. For two or three days it was endurable, but after that every one began to complain; even Duchess looked out for a shady place, under the sail or bulwarks, to lie down in, and poor Steadfast went panting about the deck with his tongue out, the fowls hung down their heads, and the merry robins and sparrows ceased to chirp. If a chip or a feather was thrown overboard, it lay motionless alongside, though the schooner herself kept moving round, with her head towards all the points of the compass.
The heat created a violent thirst: everybody was thirsty—the men, my children, my wife and I, and the poor animals; they required water more than we did, for they got no moisture out of the packed hay. We gave them as much as we dared, and, as soon as the sun was down, had them on deck to give them fresh air.
We were not alone in our misfortunes, however, for when the sun rose, on the first morning of the calm, his rays fell on the white canvas of a ship, just rising out of the western horizon. After some time she disappeared, either because her sails had been clewed up, or that she was too far off to be seen unless the sun was shining directly on them. We had many discussions as to what she was. I need scarcely say that she caused us no little uneasiness.
Still the calm continued. Day after day the sun went down in the calm ocean, and rose again to cast a ruddy glow over its mirror-like surface, and there in the distance lay the stranger, though only sharp eyes could have detected her.
I began to be very anxious about the sheep. The success of the undertaking depended in a great measure on their being kept alive, still, we had to put them on an allowance, as we had ourselves. Little Margaret and Tommy couldn’t understand why they shouldn’t have as much water as they wanted, when there was plenty alongside. They could not understand that salt water was worse than no water at all; nor could the poor sheep, probably, when they were brought up on deck, and gazed out on the glittering ocean around them.
When matters had come to this pass, I began for the first time to lose heart. I was sitting with my head bowed down, resting on my hand, when my boy Peter said to me— “Father I have an idea—I have heard that fresh water may be got out of salt, and I think I can manage it, if you do not mind expending our fuel.”
These words restored my spirits. We had laid in a large supply of fuel at the Cape; water was of more consequence than anything else. It would be better to break up all the spare cases, and even the bulkheads and cabin furniture, than to go without it. Peter soon explained his plan; I agreed to try it. We, after a search among the cargo, found two large camp kettles. Soldering down their lids, we bored a hole in the top of one and in the side of the other, and joined the two with a piece of piping, three feet long. The one with a hole in the top we placed on the fire. We fitted a funnel to the spout, through which we poured in water; the other kettle was fixed on a stand, and we soldered a small pipe in at the bottom. Above the outside kettle we slung a bucket full of water also, with a small pipe in it, and the top of the kettle we covered over with cloths, which, by the means of the bucket, were kept constantly wet. The kettle on the fire was filled, the fire blazed up, and, as the water boiled, we watched with anxiety the result of the process. Some drops at length fell from the lower kettle, and a jug was ready to catch them. Peter eagerly poured the water into a mug, and, putting it to his lips, with a triumphant smile passed it round to us all. It was deliciously cool and perfectly sweet. It now came pouring out quickly, and we got up an empty cask to contain it. We all knelt down and thanked God that we had obtained the means for sustaining life, should our supply of water altogether fail. It took a long time, and used up a large quantity of fuel to produce even a gallon of fresh water, yet a gallon was sufficient liquid for everybody on board for a couple of days, and we might thus give a larger share to the sheep.
You might not think so, but the gale off the Cape did not cause me as much anxiety as this long calm. I ought, I confess, to have remembered that in both instances God was watching over us. In the one, I trusted to my stout little craft and my seamanship; in the other, my seamanship was of no avail—the stoutest ship would not have prevented all on board dying a frightful death had the calm continued. Here was my human folly: on both occasions, had I thrown all my care on God, I should have saved myself from all the anxiety I had suffered. This was increased by the uncertainty I felt as to the character of the sail we saw in the distance. I was in my own mind persuaded that she was a French privateer, and if we were discovered, her boats would probably pay us a visit, even if she did not.
We were all seated languidly about on the deck, under an awning rigged to give us some shade, when Peter started up, exclaiming, “There comes the breeze.” Some downy feathers, fastened by a silk thread to the after backstay, had, he thought, moved for a moment though the vane quickly dropped again. We were speedily on foot, but the first glance at the glowing, tranquil ocean, like some huge mirror on which we were resting, made me fear that my son had been mistaken. I shook my head, and a sigh escaped from several of our party, as they sank down again on their seats. Just then, however, I caught sight of a light cat’s-paw skimming over the water in the distance, and Peter, springing at the same moment into the rigging and pointing westward, exclaimed, “Here it comes, father, no mistake about it now.” I followed him up the rigging, and saw in the far west a wide-extending dark blue line moving quickly on towards us. Peter and I sprang back on deck, got the awning stowed, the head sails set, and the big square-sail ready for hoisting. The cat’s-paws came thicker and thicker, the dark blue line increasing in width, till in a short time we were staggering away before as brisk a breeze as the little craft could desire. All languor quickly vanished, and we served out an additional supply of water to our poor sheep. My anxiety, however, did not cease, for just afterwards, as I was sweeping the horizon with my telescope, I saw, rising above it, the royals of a square-rigged ship, the same, I concluded, which I had seen at the commencement of the calm. She might be a friend, or an English ship, and be ready to supply us with any necessaries we might require: but I had taken it into my head that she was an enemy, and I could not tell to what treatment we might be subjected. Sometimes French officers behaved very kindly to passengers captured by them, but during the republican period many of those in command were brutal men, who outraged all the laws of humanity when they got the crews and passengers of an English ship into their power. I, of course, said nothing of this to my wife or children. I, however consulted with Charley White and Peter, and we agreed that it would be more prudent to alter our course to the northward for a few hours, so as to allow the ship to pass us during the night. Though we were not now visible to her, when the sun came to set in the west she would have got so far nearer to us that his rays falling on our canvas, we should be probably seen from her tops.
This plan we followed. Charley White had become even more anxious than I was, and he was constantly going aloft to watch the stranger. Half an hour before sunset, we could see half way down her topsails from the deck. Though they looked no bigger than a small pocket handkerchief, the sharp eyes of my girls caught sight of them, and seemed much surprised that we were not eager to speak with the stranger. I was very glad when darkness hid us, as I hoped, from her. We arranged, however, to keep a bright look out all night, and to furl everything, should she pass near us, so as to escape observation. Charley and Peter kept a watch together. They insisted on my turning in after my first watch was over, and in truth I could leave the vessel in their care with as much confidence as if I had her myself.
Chapter Eight.A Joyful Discovery.More than once I saw in my dreams a big ship closing rapidly with us and the French flag run up at the main, and a voice ordering us to heave to. We were all to be made prisoners; horrible would be the fate of those dearest to me. I started up in a cold perspiration, though the weather was hot enough as may be supposed.There was scarcely a sound except the rippling of the water against the vessel’s side, the breathing of those sleeping round me in our little cabin, and the tread of Peter’s feet overhead. Charley was at the helm I guessed. He said something, and then they both burst into a merry laugh. “All’s right,” I thought to myself, “I know why I had that uncomfortable dream. I was over anxious. I ought, having done my best, to have thrown all my care and anxiety on God; knowing that He cares for me and those dear to me.” I got out of bed, knelt down, and prayed, and when I lay down again I slept as soundly as I had ever done in my life. Awaking at daylight, I went on deck to relieve the young men. No sail was in sight. Once more we put the schooner on her proper course. I proposed touching on the western or southern coast of Australia for the sake of obtaining grass or hay for the sheep, and water and fuel. We had found the importance of having a good supply of fuel. I was no longer anxious about the stranger, but still I knew that if he was bound in the same direction that we were, owing to the uncertain winds and calms, we might very possibly again fall in with him. Still, he might after all be a friend. I would banish the subject from my mind. I did so. In the next week we had fine weather and a fair breeze, till the land, stretching away in the north, blue and indistinct, was seen on our larboard bow. We hauled up for it till we got near enough to distinguish objects on shore. I cannot say that the appearance of that part of the new country which was to be our future home was at all attractive. Backs and sand-hills, and slight elevations covered with dark green trees, were the only objects we could discern. We could obtain plenty of wood, but that we could find any water in that dry looking country seemed very doubtful, even if we could manage to land. We had all been so eagerly watching the coast, that for a long time no one had turned their eyes to the southward; Mary, happening to do so, exclaimed, “Father, there’s a sail in the horizon no bigger than my hand, but I see it clearly.”Charley, on hearing this, sprang aloft with his glass. He quickly returned, and quietly remarked to me, “A ship standing in for the land, not unlike our friend of last week.”I agreed with him it would be prudent to avoid her. The best way to do this was to stand close in, so that our masts should not appear above the land. The shore was here higher and more broken than that which we had before passed.The stranger was drawing near, and judging from the cut of his sails I had little doubt that he was a Frenchman. Whether or not he saw us it was hard to say; I was afraid he did, as he was steering a course which would inevitably cut us off. I still did not like to communicate my fears to my wife and daughters. It must be done soon I felt, for the nearer the stranger drew the more convinced I was that he was French. While we were watching our supposed enemy we did not neglect to look out for a place of refuge, and we kept scanning the coast anxiously for any opening into which we might run to hide ourselves. My wife and daughters suspected, from what they observed, that I did not like the look of the stranger; and when at last I saw that it was no use concealing from them what I suspected, Mary, I think it was, proposed loading the boats with as many necessaries as they could carry, running close in, and, having deserted the vessel, hiding ourselves in the woods till our enemies had gone away.Her sisters chimed in, and thought that it would not be at all unpleasant to picnic in the woods for a few days, or perhaps settle there altogether. They little dreamed of the inhospitable character of that part of the country; still I would say nothing to damp their courage. The breeze was fresh and from the south-west, and though it brought up the stranger, it enabled us to stand close in shore with less danger than if the wind had been dead on it. As far as we could judge, there was no opening to indicate a harbour or shelter of any sort. The big ship was approaching rapidly; I felt as if we were caught in a trap. We had no choice now but to stand on; the wind was too much to the westward to allow us to retrace our course, and so double on the stranger. I thought by this time that we must be seen. We were small, that was one thing; and another was, probably, that no one was looking for us. If not seen now, we should be in a few minutes; of that I felt sure. Again and again I examined the strange vessel, and became more and more convinced that if not a government ship she was worse; one of the large privateers which were known to infest the Indian seas, and which occasionally made excursions to other regions. They were generally commanded by ruffians, and manned with desperadoes of all nations—the scourings of the French galleys. To fall into such hands would be worse than death. I cannot tell you what fearful suggestions were offered to my mind. To run the vessel in among the breakers, to scuttle her, to set her on fire; anything seemed better than being taken.We stood on; the atmosphere was so clear that it seemed impossible to escape the observation of the stranger. Just then a line of white foam appeared almost ahead. It was, I judged, a reef extending from the shore. Hauling round it, I observed an indentation in the coast, the first we had seen in that long, unbroken line of sandy shore. I steered towards it; an opening appeared; the lead was kept going; the wind favoured us; we shortened sail, and in a few minutes brought up within a high woody point, completely concealed from any vessel passing even close outside. As soon as the canvas was made snug, Charley and the boys hurried on shore to watch the strange ship. I followed them. She was steering it seemed for the very end of the reef. It struck me that perhaps she was looking for the very harbour in which we had brought up. If so, after all our efforts to escape, we should fall into her power. She drew closer and closer. Could the entrance of our harbour be seen from her deck?“She is a good way to the eastward of the reef,” observed Charley. “Her lead is going; she intends to bring up; she is looking for a harbour, and probably this one.”“She has missed it, though,” observed Peter, “see, she is standing on to the eastward.”We remained on the height to which we had climbed, so hidden among the trees, that even if glasses had been directed towards us we should not have been seen. The stranger stood on for about three miles, and then, furling sails, brought up at the entrance of what we thought was perhaps a harbour, from the appearance of the land about it. Our hope was that she would send her boats to examine the harbour, and that if she went in we might put to sea late in the evening and escape her. We were, however, pretty safe in our present position, and we determined to profit by it.We divided for this purpose into three parties: one to search for water, another to land the sheep, and a third to cut wood.Charley and I set off to look for water. No signs were to be seen near where we landed. To the west the country looked especially barren, and we therefore agreed to go towards the east, although it was in the direction where the Frenchmen were supposed to be. We first explored the shore of the harbour, but found no stream running into it. Indeed it was a mere inlet of the sea and of small extent.An old settler would have had far less difficulty than we experienced in discovering water, because he would have known exactly the sort of trees to look out for, such as grow only on the banks of streams or water holes.“What a fearfully arid country this is,” I observed to Charley, “I hope the part we are going to is not like it.”We were about to turn back in despair, when my companion, who was a little ahead, exclaimed that he saw some water just below us. We were not long in reaching a pure and clear pool or water-hole. We slaked our own thirst, but it was a long way to bring our sheep, while it would have been nearly impossible to fill our casks from it. We discovered, however, that water ran into it, therefore it must have an outlet. This we discovered, and traced it down towards the sea. Great was our pleasure to find that it ran into a small harbour, where we could quickly fill our casks. We hastened back, and trusting to be able to obtain as much as we required, brought a supply for the sheep from the vessel. We had as yet seen no natives; indeed, from the barren nature of the country, I could scarcely believe that any could exist there.There were animals, however, for at night the boys, who were watching over the sheep, saw a creature approaching stealthily.Mark fired, but missed, and then made chase. The creature got off, leaving some traces of blood seen in the morning. It was a dingo, or native dog. Early next day, the weather being very fine, we went in the boat with the casks to the small harbour we had discovered. We had brought some wooden pipes, and by placing them a little way up the stream, we were able to conduct the water so as to fall over a rock directly into the casks. While the boys were filling them, I climbed to a height at the mouth of the harbour. There the masts of the French ship were plainly discernible. This did not give me much concern, but directly afterwards I perceived, through my glass, a party of men coming along the beach and rapidly approaching us.
More than once I saw in my dreams a big ship closing rapidly with us and the French flag run up at the main, and a voice ordering us to heave to. We were all to be made prisoners; horrible would be the fate of those dearest to me. I started up in a cold perspiration, though the weather was hot enough as may be supposed.
There was scarcely a sound except the rippling of the water against the vessel’s side, the breathing of those sleeping round me in our little cabin, and the tread of Peter’s feet overhead. Charley was at the helm I guessed. He said something, and then they both burst into a merry laugh. “All’s right,” I thought to myself, “I know why I had that uncomfortable dream. I was over anxious. I ought, having done my best, to have thrown all my care and anxiety on God; knowing that He cares for me and those dear to me.” I got out of bed, knelt down, and prayed, and when I lay down again I slept as soundly as I had ever done in my life. Awaking at daylight, I went on deck to relieve the young men. No sail was in sight. Once more we put the schooner on her proper course. I proposed touching on the western or southern coast of Australia for the sake of obtaining grass or hay for the sheep, and water and fuel. We had found the importance of having a good supply of fuel. I was no longer anxious about the stranger, but still I knew that if he was bound in the same direction that we were, owing to the uncertain winds and calms, we might very possibly again fall in with him. Still, he might after all be a friend. I would banish the subject from my mind. I did so. In the next week we had fine weather and a fair breeze, till the land, stretching away in the north, blue and indistinct, was seen on our larboard bow. We hauled up for it till we got near enough to distinguish objects on shore. I cannot say that the appearance of that part of the new country which was to be our future home was at all attractive. Backs and sand-hills, and slight elevations covered with dark green trees, were the only objects we could discern. We could obtain plenty of wood, but that we could find any water in that dry looking country seemed very doubtful, even if we could manage to land. We had all been so eagerly watching the coast, that for a long time no one had turned their eyes to the southward; Mary, happening to do so, exclaimed, “Father, there’s a sail in the horizon no bigger than my hand, but I see it clearly.”
Charley, on hearing this, sprang aloft with his glass. He quickly returned, and quietly remarked to me, “A ship standing in for the land, not unlike our friend of last week.”
I agreed with him it would be prudent to avoid her. The best way to do this was to stand close in, so that our masts should not appear above the land. The shore was here higher and more broken than that which we had before passed.
The stranger was drawing near, and judging from the cut of his sails I had little doubt that he was a Frenchman. Whether or not he saw us it was hard to say; I was afraid he did, as he was steering a course which would inevitably cut us off. I still did not like to communicate my fears to my wife and daughters. It must be done soon I felt, for the nearer the stranger drew the more convinced I was that he was French. While we were watching our supposed enemy we did not neglect to look out for a place of refuge, and we kept scanning the coast anxiously for any opening into which we might run to hide ourselves. My wife and daughters suspected, from what they observed, that I did not like the look of the stranger; and when at last I saw that it was no use concealing from them what I suspected, Mary, I think it was, proposed loading the boats with as many necessaries as they could carry, running close in, and, having deserted the vessel, hiding ourselves in the woods till our enemies had gone away.
Her sisters chimed in, and thought that it would not be at all unpleasant to picnic in the woods for a few days, or perhaps settle there altogether. They little dreamed of the inhospitable character of that part of the country; still I would say nothing to damp their courage. The breeze was fresh and from the south-west, and though it brought up the stranger, it enabled us to stand close in shore with less danger than if the wind had been dead on it. As far as we could judge, there was no opening to indicate a harbour or shelter of any sort. The big ship was approaching rapidly; I felt as if we were caught in a trap. We had no choice now but to stand on; the wind was too much to the westward to allow us to retrace our course, and so double on the stranger. I thought by this time that we must be seen. We were small, that was one thing; and another was, probably, that no one was looking for us. If not seen now, we should be in a few minutes; of that I felt sure. Again and again I examined the strange vessel, and became more and more convinced that if not a government ship she was worse; one of the large privateers which were known to infest the Indian seas, and which occasionally made excursions to other regions. They were generally commanded by ruffians, and manned with desperadoes of all nations—the scourings of the French galleys. To fall into such hands would be worse than death. I cannot tell you what fearful suggestions were offered to my mind. To run the vessel in among the breakers, to scuttle her, to set her on fire; anything seemed better than being taken.
We stood on; the atmosphere was so clear that it seemed impossible to escape the observation of the stranger. Just then a line of white foam appeared almost ahead. It was, I judged, a reef extending from the shore. Hauling round it, I observed an indentation in the coast, the first we had seen in that long, unbroken line of sandy shore. I steered towards it; an opening appeared; the lead was kept going; the wind favoured us; we shortened sail, and in a few minutes brought up within a high woody point, completely concealed from any vessel passing even close outside. As soon as the canvas was made snug, Charley and the boys hurried on shore to watch the strange ship. I followed them. She was steering it seemed for the very end of the reef. It struck me that perhaps she was looking for the very harbour in which we had brought up. If so, after all our efforts to escape, we should fall into her power. She drew closer and closer. Could the entrance of our harbour be seen from her deck?
“She is a good way to the eastward of the reef,” observed Charley. “Her lead is going; she intends to bring up; she is looking for a harbour, and probably this one.”
“She has missed it, though,” observed Peter, “see, she is standing on to the eastward.”
We remained on the height to which we had climbed, so hidden among the trees, that even if glasses had been directed towards us we should not have been seen. The stranger stood on for about three miles, and then, furling sails, brought up at the entrance of what we thought was perhaps a harbour, from the appearance of the land about it. Our hope was that she would send her boats to examine the harbour, and that if she went in we might put to sea late in the evening and escape her. We were, however, pretty safe in our present position, and we determined to profit by it.
We divided for this purpose into three parties: one to search for water, another to land the sheep, and a third to cut wood.
Charley and I set off to look for water. No signs were to be seen near where we landed. To the west the country looked especially barren, and we therefore agreed to go towards the east, although it was in the direction where the Frenchmen were supposed to be. We first explored the shore of the harbour, but found no stream running into it. Indeed it was a mere inlet of the sea and of small extent.
An old settler would have had far less difficulty than we experienced in discovering water, because he would have known exactly the sort of trees to look out for, such as grow only on the banks of streams or water holes.
“What a fearfully arid country this is,” I observed to Charley, “I hope the part we are going to is not like it.”
We were about to turn back in despair, when my companion, who was a little ahead, exclaimed that he saw some water just below us. We were not long in reaching a pure and clear pool or water-hole. We slaked our own thirst, but it was a long way to bring our sheep, while it would have been nearly impossible to fill our casks from it. We discovered, however, that water ran into it, therefore it must have an outlet. This we discovered, and traced it down towards the sea. Great was our pleasure to find that it ran into a small harbour, where we could quickly fill our casks. We hastened back, and trusting to be able to obtain as much as we required, brought a supply for the sheep from the vessel. We had as yet seen no natives; indeed, from the barren nature of the country, I could scarcely believe that any could exist there.
There were animals, however, for at night the boys, who were watching over the sheep, saw a creature approaching stealthily.
Mark fired, but missed, and then made chase. The creature got off, leaving some traces of blood seen in the morning. It was a dingo, or native dog. Early next day, the weather being very fine, we went in the boat with the casks to the small harbour we had discovered. We had brought some wooden pipes, and by placing them a little way up the stream, we were able to conduct the water so as to fall over a rock directly into the casks. While the boys were filling them, I climbed to a height at the mouth of the harbour. There the masts of the French ship were plainly discernible. This did not give me much concern, but directly afterwards I perceived, through my glass, a party of men coming along the beach and rapidly approaching us.
Chapter Nine.Land, Hurrah!I hurried back to the boat. The casks were filled. We got them in. Should we remain in the harbour and try to conceal ourselves, or should we boldly pull out with the certainty of being seen, but yet with the possibility of getting back to the schooner and putting to sea before the privateer’s men could reach us. We decided on the latter course, not a moment was to be lost. If we should succeed in getting out to sea we should be safe; for with so large a number of her people on shore it was not likely that the French ships would chase us.“Now, my lads, pull for life and liberty!” I exclaimed, as I took the helm. “Gently at first till we are clear of the harbour. The Frenchmen won’t see us till then.”The entrance was not very easy; as soon as we were outside the boys gave way. I every now and then turned my head round to ascertain if we were observed. The Frenchmen were most probably, as we had been, searching for water and did not see us. At length they caught sight of us, I concluded, as I saw them running along the shore as fast as their legs would carry them. My boys exerted their arms in a like manner. The Frenchmen, although they saw that we were beyond their reach, fired a shot at us. Another and another followed. It was done in mere wantonness, for they could not have known who we were. We were much too distant from them, however, for the shot to reach us. Heavily laden as was our boat, the boys urged her on fast, and in a short time we were alongside the schooner. Charley White, who had remained in charge, had heard the shots, and guessing who had fired them, had got the sheep on board with the wood and grass, and made everything ready for weighing. Happily, the breeze blew down the harbour. We speedily hoisted the boats on board and got the anchors up, and while the Frenchmen were climbing up a height which formed the eastern shore of the inlet, we ran out and were speedily clear of the land. We could see them through the glass stamping on the ground, apparently with rage at our having escaped them. The northerly breeze carried us in a short time out of their sight and indeed out of sight of the land itself. We were to the south of the equator, and that northerly wind was the hottest I ever experienced; from its very smell we could tell that it had blown over many hundred miles of burnt earth or dry sand. We kept south; for I purposed going round Van Diemen’s Land instead of through Bass’s Straits—not then very well known.Next day we looked out with some anxiety for the Frenchman, but he was nowhere to be seen, and we entertained the hope that we had escaped him altogether.We sighted the southern part of Van Diemen’s Land. But as we should not have been allowed to land at the new settlement then even had we wished it, unless we had put in there in distress, we continued our course for Port Jackson. It was time for us to be in port. We had eaten up all the fowls except those we wanted to land; the biscuits were becoming mouldy, the water bad, the hay was nearly consumed, and the sheep, put on short allowance, were looking thin, though otherwise healthy.The lads were continually going to the mast-head, each one eager to be the first to discover land.We were edging in for the coast, from which I knew that we were not far distant, when Mark, who was aloft, shouted out, “Land! land! Hurrah! the land we are bound for!” I was afraid that in the exuberance of his delight he would have let go his hold, and come down by the run on deck. John thought so too, and with alarm expressed in his countenance, ran under him to catch him in his arms. He held on, however, and in a few seconds his brother and White joined him, and shouted with almost as much glee as he had exhibited, “Land! land!” We stood in directly for it, for by my calculations we were not far off Botany Bay, or rather Port Jackson, for that in reality was the port for which we were bound.In England in those days people always spoke of Botany Bay, because that was the place where Captain Cook landed before Port Jackson was discovered.A strong breeze was blowing, which carried us rapidly towards the land. The wind increased, and dark clouds were seen gathering in the south-east. I had heard of a black squall off that coast, and from the darkness of the sky and the increasing wind, I was afraid that one was now brewing. Charley White was of my opinion, I found. This made me more than ever anxious to get into harbour before dark. Still it increased the danger of approaching the shore, and the bay afforded no shelter to the wind then blowing. We flew rapidly on; the dim outline of the coast became more and more distinct. At length we could distinguish some lofty headlands directly ahead.Charley White knew that two such headlands mark the entrance to Port Jackson, but he reminded me that there is a third, which forms the side of False Bay, and that more than one ship had run in there, and that instead of finding a sheltering harbour they had been thrown against the rugged cliffs which form its sides.The knowledge of this increased my anxiety. The sky in the east became darker and darker, and the wind yet further increased, till it blew almost a hurricane; heavy seas came rolling up, topped with white foam, leaping in eagerness it seemed to catch the little craft which had borne us in safety so far over the bosom of the ocean, and was about to escape altogether from their power.Peter stood at the helm. Charley and I kept a keen look-out ahead. As we flew on, the land became more distinct, and the outline of the headlands appeared; still darkness was coming on—a mistake would be fatal.“I see the heads!” exclaimed Charley at length. “There is no mistake; I am certain of it. Starboard a little, Peter. That will do, she is heading right in for the entrance. Take the bearings now; keep her exact on that course. My life for it, we shall get safe into the harbour.”My anxiety was lifted off my shoulders. I had a confidence in Charley’s judgment and knowledge which I should have placed in few people, but he had already shown me that he was to be trusted. The darkness now came rapidly on, and so heavy a sea got up, and so furiously blew the gale, that I often doubted whether the littleMay Flowerwould stand it. I doubt whether alone I could have found the entrance; but Charley never wavered in his opinion. Keeping his eye towards the land, now gradually becoming shrouded in deeper and deeper gloom, he continued to direct Peter how to steer.After a time the land rose up close ahead of us, but there was a deep slit in the centre, which seemed each instant to increase in width, and then the cliffs appeared on either side. The roar of the waves was tremendous, deafening to our ears; but we felt them less and less, till, rushing on, a wide, open, smooth expanse lay before us, and we were in smooth water—the haven where we would be.
I hurried back to the boat. The casks were filled. We got them in. Should we remain in the harbour and try to conceal ourselves, or should we boldly pull out with the certainty of being seen, but yet with the possibility of getting back to the schooner and putting to sea before the privateer’s men could reach us. We decided on the latter course, not a moment was to be lost. If we should succeed in getting out to sea we should be safe; for with so large a number of her people on shore it was not likely that the French ships would chase us.
“Now, my lads, pull for life and liberty!” I exclaimed, as I took the helm. “Gently at first till we are clear of the harbour. The Frenchmen won’t see us till then.”
The entrance was not very easy; as soon as we were outside the boys gave way. I every now and then turned my head round to ascertain if we were observed. The Frenchmen were most probably, as we had been, searching for water and did not see us. At length they caught sight of us, I concluded, as I saw them running along the shore as fast as their legs would carry them. My boys exerted their arms in a like manner. The Frenchmen, although they saw that we were beyond their reach, fired a shot at us. Another and another followed. It was done in mere wantonness, for they could not have known who we were. We were much too distant from them, however, for the shot to reach us. Heavily laden as was our boat, the boys urged her on fast, and in a short time we were alongside the schooner. Charley White, who had remained in charge, had heard the shots, and guessing who had fired them, had got the sheep on board with the wood and grass, and made everything ready for weighing. Happily, the breeze blew down the harbour. We speedily hoisted the boats on board and got the anchors up, and while the Frenchmen were climbing up a height which formed the eastern shore of the inlet, we ran out and were speedily clear of the land. We could see them through the glass stamping on the ground, apparently with rage at our having escaped them. The northerly breeze carried us in a short time out of their sight and indeed out of sight of the land itself. We were to the south of the equator, and that northerly wind was the hottest I ever experienced; from its very smell we could tell that it had blown over many hundred miles of burnt earth or dry sand. We kept south; for I purposed going round Van Diemen’s Land instead of through Bass’s Straits—not then very well known.
Next day we looked out with some anxiety for the Frenchman, but he was nowhere to be seen, and we entertained the hope that we had escaped him altogether.
We sighted the southern part of Van Diemen’s Land. But as we should not have been allowed to land at the new settlement then even had we wished it, unless we had put in there in distress, we continued our course for Port Jackson. It was time for us to be in port. We had eaten up all the fowls except those we wanted to land; the biscuits were becoming mouldy, the water bad, the hay was nearly consumed, and the sheep, put on short allowance, were looking thin, though otherwise healthy.
The lads were continually going to the mast-head, each one eager to be the first to discover land.
We were edging in for the coast, from which I knew that we were not far distant, when Mark, who was aloft, shouted out, “Land! land! Hurrah! the land we are bound for!” I was afraid that in the exuberance of his delight he would have let go his hold, and come down by the run on deck. John thought so too, and with alarm expressed in his countenance, ran under him to catch him in his arms. He held on, however, and in a few seconds his brother and White joined him, and shouted with almost as much glee as he had exhibited, “Land! land!” We stood in directly for it, for by my calculations we were not far off Botany Bay, or rather Port Jackson, for that in reality was the port for which we were bound.
In England in those days people always spoke of Botany Bay, because that was the place where Captain Cook landed before Port Jackson was discovered.
A strong breeze was blowing, which carried us rapidly towards the land. The wind increased, and dark clouds were seen gathering in the south-east. I had heard of a black squall off that coast, and from the darkness of the sky and the increasing wind, I was afraid that one was now brewing. Charley White was of my opinion, I found. This made me more than ever anxious to get into harbour before dark. Still it increased the danger of approaching the shore, and the bay afforded no shelter to the wind then blowing. We flew rapidly on; the dim outline of the coast became more and more distinct. At length we could distinguish some lofty headlands directly ahead.
Charley White knew that two such headlands mark the entrance to Port Jackson, but he reminded me that there is a third, which forms the side of False Bay, and that more than one ship had run in there, and that instead of finding a sheltering harbour they had been thrown against the rugged cliffs which form its sides.
The knowledge of this increased my anxiety. The sky in the east became darker and darker, and the wind yet further increased, till it blew almost a hurricane; heavy seas came rolling up, topped with white foam, leaping in eagerness it seemed to catch the little craft which had borne us in safety so far over the bosom of the ocean, and was about to escape altogether from their power.
Peter stood at the helm. Charley and I kept a keen look-out ahead. As we flew on, the land became more distinct, and the outline of the headlands appeared; still darkness was coming on—a mistake would be fatal.
“I see the heads!” exclaimed Charley at length. “There is no mistake; I am certain of it. Starboard a little, Peter. That will do, she is heading right in for the entrance. Take the bearings now; keep her exact on that course. My life for it, we shall get safe into the harbour.”
My anxiety was lifted off my shoulders. I had a confidence in Charley’s judgment and knowledge which I should have placed in few people, but he had already shown me that he was to be trusted. The darkness now came rapidly on, and so heavy a sea got up, and so furiously blew the gale, that I often doubted whether the littleMay Flowerwould stand it. I doubt whether alone I could have found the entrance; but Charley never wavered in his opinion. Keeping his eye towards the land, now gradually becoming shrouded in deeper and deeper gloom, he continued to direct Peter how to steer.
After a time the land rose up close ahead of us, but there was a deep slit in the centre, which seemed each instant to increase in width, and then the cliffs appeared on either side. The roar of the waves was tremendous, deafening to our ears; but we felt them less and less, till, rushing on, a wide, open, smooth expanse lay before us, and we were in smooth water—the haven where we would be.
Chapter Ten.Our Convict Host.Oh, the rest, the satisfaction, and, I may say, the thankfulness we felt. We shortened sail, and rounded to for a pilot, who came on board, and took us up to a berth opposite to Sydney, or the camp, as it was even then frequently called. As soon as we had dropped our anchor and furled sails, we one and all of us, young and old, my wife and daughters and my boys, and White and the crew, went down on our knees and returned thanks to the God of love and mercy who had thus brought us in safety in our small vessel across the great ocean. The tempest raged on without, but we lay quiet and secure within the harbour. I cannot describe to you how free from care I slept that night, and yet many people would have said that our troubles were only now going to begin.As soon as the morning broke, all on board assembled on deck to look out on the new world to which we had come. The magnificent harbour, its surrounding heights and numerous points and inlets were the same then as now, but the ground on which the large city of Sydney now stands was then dotted over with a few Government buildings and merchants’ stores, and here and there a large private residence, and not a few big public-houses; but most of the dwelling-houses were of plank, and some even of canvas, belonging to newcomers. Still there was evidence of progress, and as the day advanced, and people began to move about, a good deal of animation and activity was visible.We were soon surrounded by boats, with people eager to know where we had come from, and what cargo we had got. Many of the visitors were not pleasant-looking customers, and I was in no wise inclined to encourage them on board. Those who did come looked with very great interest at the sheep, and I soon found from their remarks that they considered them of much value, and that the speculation was likely to prove a good one.Before, however, I entered into any engagements, I went on shore to ascertain the state of affairs. I found that I could obtain a large grant of land free, and that as many convicts would be assigned to me as I could maintain, to cultivate the land. I knew a little about farming, and I forgot at the time that the convicts were not likely to become very pleasant servants, so that everything to be done appeared plain and easy before me, and in high spirits I returned on board.My family were, of course, all eager to get on shore, but as they had no home to go to, it was arranged that I and Charley White and John should set out at once to select some land, while Peter remained on board to take care of the family and look after the vessel. We none of us knew much about land, as to which was likely to prove good or bad, but then we could take advantage of the experience of earlier settlers. We could ascertain how some had failed, and others had been successful, and follow, with such modifications as circumstances might require, the example of the latter. We each carried a knapsack with provisions, and a cloak to sleep in at night; said Charley, who was a good shot, had a gun, that he might kill a kangaroo, or any other animal we might fall in with, for food. We each of us had also a pocket compass, without which no man should attempt to travel in a new country like Australia.My wife and daughters seemed very anxious when we were all ready and about to set out, but I reminded them that we were only just going to do what we had come all the way from England to do, and that there were no wild beasts or other dangers that I knew of to fear. “Oh, but there are those hideous black men, father,” exclaimed Susan; “do take care of them, for I am sure that they look as if they would do any mischief.”“No fear,” answered Charley, “they look worse than they are, and we shall be able to manage any number of them, even if they should take it into their heads to play us tricks. Mary is not afraid, you see.” Mary looked as if she thought Charley would be able, with his single arm, to put to flight a whole host of blacks. Those we had seen, though ugly enough, were not very terrific-looking fellows. We heard, however, that away from Sydney, where the white settlers had found some blacks pilfering, and had shot them dead, the survivors had retaliated, and murdered two or three white men.As horses were at that time very dear, I did not wish to purchase any for our journey, and none were to be hired. We had therefore to trudge forward on foot. One thing we wanted, and that was a guide who knew the nature of the country, the best mode of traversing it, and where farms were situated. Unaccustomed to walking, we felt very weary the first day of our journey as night approached, and yet no house appeared in sight. We were travelling along a high road made by convicts. The worst characters were employed on the roads, a labour which they especially detested. They were generally doubly convicted felons. They were worked in chains, but sometimes even then they broke away, and, taking to the bush, robbed every one they met, and murdered those who resisted them.We thought at last that we should have to camp out, instead of getting the shelter of a roof, which we had expected to do. Just, however, as we were about to stop, a light appeared ahead. We made for it. The door of a cottage stood open. We entered. A fire was blazing on the hearth, with a large damper baking under the ashes, and a huge teapot of tea was steaming away on a table set out for a meal; while a joint of a kangaroo was among the good things which gladdened our eyes.“You may walk in, strangers, and welcome,” said a rough-looking man, who at that moment appeared from the back part of the cottage. “Here, missus, I see you have supper ready, where are you?” His wife, a buxom dame, came when called from an inner room, and welcomed us as her husband had done. We were soon seated at the table, doing justice to the kangaroo and damper. When our host and his wife heard that we had lately arrived, they were eager for us to tell them all the news from England, but what we had to say was not what they cared much to hear, that was very evident. As I examined their countenances, I did not like the expression they bore, nor warn the way they spoke altogether satisfactory. I suspected, and I was right, that they were convicts. At that time there were many of that class, who had already risen to considerable wealth, in the colony.
Oh, the rest, the satisfaction, and, I may say, the thankfulness we felt. We shortened sail, and rounded to for a pilot, who came on board, and took us up to a berth opposite to Sydney, or the camp, as it was even then frequently called. As soon as we had dropped our anchor and furled sails, we one and all of us, young and old, my wife and daughters and my boys, and White and the crew, went down on our knees and returned thanks to the God of love and mercy who had thus brought us in safety in our small vessel across the great ocean. The tempest raged on without, but we lay quiet and secure within the harbour. I cannot describe to you how free from care I slept that night, and yet many people would have said that our troubles were only now going to begin.
As soon as the morning broke, all on board assembled on deck to look out on the new world to which we had come. The magnificent harbour, its surrounding heights and numerous points and inlets were the same then as now, but the ground on which the large city of Sydney now stands was then dotted over with a few Government buildings and merchants’ stores, and here and there a large private residence, and not a few big public-houses; but most of the dwelling-houses were of plank, and some even of canvas, belonging to newcomers. Still there was evidence of progress, and as the day advanced, and people began to move about, a good deal of animation and activity was visible.
We were soon surrounded by boats, with people eager to know where we had come from, and what cargo we had got. Many of the visitors were not pleasant-looking customers, and I was in no wise inclined to encourage them on board. Those who did come looked with very great interest at the sheep, and I soon found from their remarks that they considered them of much value, and that the speculation was likely to prove a good one.
Before, however, I entered into any engagements, I went on shore to ascertain the state of affairs. I found that I could obtain a large grant of land free, and that as many convicts would be assigned to me as I could maintain, to cultivate the land. I knew a little about farming, and I forgot at the time that the convicts were not likely to become very pleasant servants, so that everything to be done appeared plain and easy before me, and in high spirits I returned on board.
My family were, of course, all eager to get on shore, but as they had no home to go to, it was arranged that I and Charley White and John should set out at once to select some land, while Peter remained on board to take care of the family and look after the vessel. We none of us knew much about land, as to which was likely to prove good or bad, but then we could take advantage of the experience of earlier settlers. We could ascertain how some had failed, and others had been successful, and follow, with such modifications as circumstances might require, the example of the latter. We each carried a knapsack with provisions, and a cloak to sleep in at night; said Charley, who was a good shot, had a gun, that he might kill a kangaroo, or any other animal we might fall in with, for food. We each of us had also a pocket compass, without which no man should attempt to travel in a new country like Australia.
My wife and daughters seemed very anxious when we were all ready and about to set out, but I reminded them that we were only just going to do what we had come all the way from England to do, and that there were no wild beasts or other dangers that I knew of to fear. “Oh, but there are those hideous black men, father,” exclaimed Susan; “do take care of them, for I am sure that they look as if they would do any mischief.”
“No fear,” answered Charley, “they look worse than they are, and we shall be able to manage any number of them, even if they should take it into their heads to play us tricks. Mary is not afraid, you see.” Mary looked as if she thought Charley would be able, with his single arm, to put to flight a whole host of blacks. Those we had seen, though ugly enough, were not very terrific-looking fellows. We heard, however, that away from Sydney, where the white settlers had found some blacks pilfering, and had shot them dead, the survivors had retaliated, and murdered two or three white men.
As horses were at that time very dear, I did not wish to purchase any for our journey, and none were to be hired. We had therefore to trudge forward on foot. One thing we wanted, and that was a guide who knew the nature of the country, the best mode of traversing it, and where farms were situated. Unaccustomed to walking, we felt very weary the first day of our journey as night approached, and yet no house appeared in sight. We were travelling along a high road made by convicts. The worst characters were employed on the roads, a labour which they especially detested. They were generally doubly convicted felons. They were worked in chains, but sometimes even then they broke away, and, taking to the bush, robbed every one they met, and murdered those who resisted them.
We thought at last that we should have to camp out, instead of getting the shelter of a roof, which we had expected to do. Just, however, as we were about to stop, a light appeared ahead. We made for it. The door of a cottage stood open. We entered. A fire was blazing on the hearth, with a large damper baking under the ashes, and a huge teapot of tea was steaming away on a table set out for a meal; while a joint of a kangaroo was among the good things which gladdened our eyes.
“You may walk in, strangers, and welcome,” said a rough-looking man, who at that moment appeared from the back part of the cottage. “Here, missus, I see you have supper ready, where are you?” His wife, a buxom dame, came when called from an inner room, and welcomed us as her husband had done. We were soon seated at the table, doing justice to the kangaroo and damper. When our host and his wife heard that we had lately arrived, they were eager for us to tell them all the news from England, but what we had to say was not what they cared much to hear, that was very evident. As I examined their countenances, I did not like the expression they bore, nor warn the way they spoke altogether satisfactory. I suspected, and I was right, that they were convicts. At that time there were many of that class, who had already risen to considerable wealth, in the colony.